


My daily night

by WaterFowl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean/Angst, Emotional pain, Family, Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-02
Updated: 2010-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterFowl/pseuds/WaterFowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean suffers from nightmares and gets a glimpse of how it's all going to end. Set through the latest span of season 6, but no reference to specific episodes. Dean's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My daily night

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: As ever, Dean's state of tormented dismay within the soulless!Sam framework fascinates me as much as it breaks my heart.
> 
> Set some time through the span of latest season 6 episodes. No specific references or spoilers, though.
> 
> Disclaimer: None of the characters, plot-points, inherent to the show, belong to me.

**My daily night***

It was a daeva this time. A rawhead the previous night. And a werewolf the night before that. Or anything equally toothy and clawy enough to rip his abdomen wide open, blood meshed up with his own insides spilling out. Not a hellhound though. Never a hellhound, for those beasts set out to kill for keeps, and he's mercilessly left alive every night, white-hot pain soaring up his body, parching his throat, burning his eyes into opaque blisters.

"Sammy!" – he calls out to the brother who isn't there, his lips raw, his voice but a hoarse whisper. Every night.

Every night, the familiar face moves into the blurred and rapidly fading line of his vision; familiar eyes icy and unwavering. Math done. Mind set. And Dean knows it's the right thing, after all. He knows he's a liability on a hunt, injured like that. He knows he won't make it to the hospital, once the whole gig is over, anyway. Yet he flinches every time at the cold, solid finality of the barrel pressed to his forehead. He squeezes his eyes shut, lest he saw what's not there, within those of his brother, and waits for the booming thunder of a gunshot to wake him up. Every night.

***

"You had a nightmare. Again." – not a question. A statement. No worry, no concern. Sam is wide-awake, as ever, pouring over some files.

Dean's own mind is woozy, weeks' worth lack of proper rest taking its toll. His arm moves up instinctively to wrap over the assaulted midsection. There's no warm, sticky moisture to detect, of course. The wound was but in his head. Yet he keeps looking at the brother who isn't there and sees how it's all going to end.

**Author's Note:**

> *Let me not mar that perfect dream
> 
> By an auroral stain,
> 
> But so adjust my daily night
> 
> That it will come again.
> 
> (by Emily Dickinson)


End file.
